Puzzle Pieces
by XxTotallyObsessedxX
Summary: A long night spent with your most obvious weakness, you start shaking at the thought. You are everything I want, because you're everything I'm not. TBS Artemis x mindwiped!Holly


When you spend your first night with your most obvious weakness, many things can happen. Most of them would occur emotionally, but, of course, that all depends on what said weakness _is. _You could spend a sleepless evening in turmoil, afraid of the vulnerability that you had, for so long, blinded yourself to. However, you might have the best night's rest in months, having realized that your kryptonite is not, as you once thought, the fear of a government invasion, which is a lot more serious than spiders.

Or, of course, there's the weakness that everybody has deep within them. The fear of losing something that you love dearly. Especially, as in this case, something that came to be yours through a rather unfair chain of events.

He kissed her again, his lips pleading with hers, which refused to respond. His desperation was frightening her, he realized. Pulling away from her face, he kept his slender fingers wrapped around her wrist, as if afraid that she might disappear.

The boy's own hopeful eyes started at her frightened hazels, scanning her in contemplation. Everything was wrong. _Everything. _He barely had to cast his glance downwards to see her, barely had to bend to capture her lips. The copper colored hair was tangled from when he had run his fingers through, talking to her in that soft voice.

It was painful to look at her and not see his own past. That's why he had come, of course. She didn't object when he leaned his forehead against hers; she hadn't objected to anything. Talking. Kissing. But she had refused to believe.

"I need you to remember," he whispered in that soothing voice, the one that seemed to draw her in and not let her go. She shook her head, stray auburn locks obscuring her eyes.

Why it made her so upset was a mystery. As far as she knew, there was nothing to remember. But something about him made her desperate to make him happy. And he was far from happy, now, as he drew away from her again. She wanted to tell him to come back, and to be close to her again, but she hadn't spoken any words so far. Why start now?

Of course, it would make the man happy.

"Wait," she choked, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "I . . . I remember. I think I do."

He turned towards her again, taking a step in her direction. She got that feeling again, the one where her breath caught in her throat whenever he came near. What a wonderfully deceiving feeling.

She thought that she would suffocate as he kissed her again. It's like a reward, she thought to herself sickly. For remembering something that never happened.

"We went to school together, didn't we?" Of course that was it, she deducted. Grade school, back in Paris. She hadn't been particularly popular, but she was attractive. Perhaps this man was just another boy who had looked, but never talked. Then, it was less likely that they had both ended up in Dublin, Ireland on this New Year's Eve.

His disappointment spread to her, like something terribly contagious. His sparkling eyes became dull, and she could feel her heart sink.

"Of course not, no. A family friend. I remember, really." It made sense, really, that he was just another son of another business man that had come to see her own father on one of those tired Friday nights.

His eyes had lost their luster, their excitement. Her heart broke at the sight of him, still silently pleading with him. _Remember, please. I need you to remember. _

_Remember._

But she had forgotten nothing. She could clearly see in her mind all of the weeks at school, and all of the Friday nights. Those didn't seem to matter as much, though. The only thing she wouldn't stand to forget was the way that his lips felt when they touched hers.

"Please," he muttered, his voice cracking is desperation, "Remember me. _Please._" Remember me, now. No longer did she need to remember the past that she thought she had, but only the face. And it clicked into place, then, just another false memory that she could see clearly.

"We . . . We were in love."

He looked at her slowly, the sparkle returning. It was different, though. _So wonderfully deceiving._

"I'm sorry, then," she whispered sadly, wishing so much to please, "I suppose I can't remember anything."

A gentle smile spread across his lips, a perfectly even mix of sadness and manipulation. "No, it's all right. You've got it, now. There's no need to remember anything else."

And he kissed her again, unaware that the memories were pleading to get out. Unaware that he had become just another piece in the puzzle that he had tried to disassemble.

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**A/N: **Merry Christmas! It wasn't exactly a holiday fiction . . . But I wrote it in anticipation of returning. I hope you all like it. This is didicated to everyone, but most of all Eve, Liv, and Shannon

Writing music: Heart-shaped Glasses, Marilyn Manson. But the beginning, and more accurately, the summary, come from MakeDamnSure, by Taking Back Sunday.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters. They belong to Eoin Colfer. No profits, no suing, etc. etc..


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